


Mistletoe Man

by randomling



Category: Popslash
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-31
Updated: 2009-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomling/pseuds/randomling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justin is a superhero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hurricanemegan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=hurricanemegan).



Three blocks from Casey's, there's a coffee shop where JC likes to study before work. He has a favourite table - right in the back, under an old poster for _Some Like It Hot_ \- and a favourite drink and even a favourite barista. The drink is chai tea, such a clear, calm taste, and so warming in winter. The barista's name is Justin.

This morning, December 10th, he's curled up in his usual seat, sipping tea and reading over notes for the last term paper for the year, when his cell phone rings. It's 11am - six hours before he has to work - so it's kind of a surprise when he checks caller ID and it says Casey's Bar. He answers the phone, and it's Lance.

"Hey," JC says, "what are you doing there? We're not even open yet."

"There's a meeting," Lance says. JC blinks; this is totally unprecedented. They're bar tenders, they don't get called to meetings. Maybe Chris, who's the manager, goes to meetings with people. But he's more the yell-at-suppliers kind of manager, really.

"How soon can you get here?" Lance asks.

JC looks over his study books and, longingly, at his half-finished cup of tea. He sighs. "Five minutes," he says, "I'm just down the street."

"Oh, okay."

"See you soon," JC says. He hangs up and leans forward to pack up his books, and pauses to drink as big a mouthful of his tea as he can manage. A few seconds later, he stops and looks up, because a shadow has fallen over his table.

It's Justin - on the ball, as always. "You want that to go?" he says, pointing at JC's tea.

"Uh, sure, thanks."

Justin just nods and takes the cup without saying more. JC gets on with packing up, and by the time everything's in his bag, Justin's coming back with a to-go cup.

"Thanks," JC says.

"Sure."

He throws a couple of bucks in the tip jar as he leaves, and marches through the snow towards the bar. It's bitterly cold, and JC shoves his free hand into his pockets as he walks; he lost one of his gloves the other day. When he gets there, the door is standing half-open, and he pushes on the cold wood and steps inside.

Chris is sitting on the bar, swinging his legs, with a look on his face that says defeat, pure and simple. Lance is leaning against a table near the door, and he looks up and around as JC enters. Joey's pulled a chair away from another table and is sitting on it the wrong way around, his elbows folded on the backrest of the chair.

"Hey, guys," JC says. And then, because there's an a solid grey atmosphere of dread in the room, "What's going on?"

Everyone looks at him now. And clearly no one knows what to say or how to say it. JC thinks of the way it is when you have to give the news that somebody died, and he thinks maybe it was Lou, and then he thinks, no, Chris would be throwing a party.

Joey meets JC's eyes and looks away.

Lance looks firmly at the floor.

Chris is the brave one; he looks up and holds JC's gaze and JC's stomach sinks. Chris says, "We're closing."

The first thing JC thinks is this: he wants to go to the coffee shop and get his two bucks back.

***

Honestly, though, two bucks isn't going to make much difference if he doesn't have a job a all. At any point, JC's about two paychecks away from having to quit school, and he knows that Chris isn't much better off. He's less sure about how Lance and Joey do, but they're in the same basic situation of working in a bar. They're probably not rich.

JC lets his bag fall to the floor with a heavy thump, grabs the nearest chair, and falls into it. It's only then that he says, "Shit."

"Yeah," Lance says.

"Amen." That's Joey.

JC sighs. "What can we do?"

"Nothing," Chris says blandly. "Lou's been screwing the pooch for years. The bars in buttloads of debt. Lou's selling it to some development company to pay it all off, and they'll probably turn it into a parking lot or something."

"So when do we close?" JC asks.

"Tomorrow," Lance says.

"Holy fuck."

"That's about it, yeah," Chris says.

JC looks around. The place is already decked out for Christmas, a tree in one corner, lights and tinsel strung all over the walls. They spent a whole Saturday decorating. JC loves this bar, despite it being owned by Lou. They've made something of it, the four of them.

"Well," JC says. He swallows the lump in his throat. "Maybe we could at least go out with a bang?"

***

It's kind of interesting, it turns out, organizing a closing-down party in a day and a half. Where interesting means crazy-making. JC's never seen Chris so grumpy, or Lance so super-focused, or Joey so careful with his jokes. For JC, there's a lot of taking five minutes in the bathroom and doing yoga breathing exercises. And a lot of _JC-where-the-fuck-did-you-go_ from Chris.

The term paper gets totally sidelined, of course. Three weeks of work on the history of American literature, junked. Of course, he'll pick it up after the party, he tells himself. But he's pretty sure that, after that, he'll be too busy hunting for a job to do anything much on his college course.

Which is a shame, because he likes to study, and he's been doing pretty well.

Lance is taking care of all the signs and posters; he says he's good a good printer at home, and the signs sure look good when he brings them in Friday morning. Chris is on the phone to all of their suppliers, so it's up to Joey and JC to wander the neighbourhood making sure people know it's happening. Late Friday morning, they split up, to cover more ground, and JC tramps through the snow in the direction of his coffee shop.

It's not just to try and get Justin to come, he tells himself. Justin looks pretty damn straight to him, so it's not like he's holding out hope for a happy ending under the mistletoe. Justin's just a hot guy who serves him coffee, and the whole point is to get as many people to the party as possible. Not 'cause they care about making extra money for Lou. But because they want to give Casey's a good send-off.

They'll miss it when it's gone.

The storefront is yellow, and jazzed up for Christmas, and with the snowman in the window and everything it looks really festive. JC loves Lynn's. On a Friday morning it's pretty busy, and Justin is behind the counter with a blonde woman of about the same age. JC recognizes her, but he doesn't know her name.

JC makes right for the counter and Justin smiles at him. "Hey, there. Chai?" He's already reaching behind him for the teabags. JC waves his hand quickly.

"No, I'm just here for a quick visit. Uh, wanted to leave a couple of these leaflets. We're having a closing down party at Casey's tonight."

"Casey's is closing down?" Justin holds out his hand and JC gives him a fistful of leaflets. "Man, that sucks. I used to be in there all the time."

"Not any more, though," JC points out, 'cause he totally would have noticed if he and Justin were each other's customers.

Justin smiles ruefully. "Yeah, I don't get so much time these days." He sets the leaflets on the counter. "I'll make sure the word gets around about the party," he says, "it sucks that place is closing. Such a nice bar."

"It really is," JC says.

"You want some tea to go?" Justin asks. JC finds himself nodding dumbly and feels in his pocket for money, but Justin waves his hand. "No charge. I guess you're out of a job now, right?"

"Uh... I will be tomorrow." JC finds himself flushing and looking down. God. He's not looking forward to tomorrow.

Justin hands JC the tea and it's really nice in his hand. "Shitty break," he says sympathetically. "Good luck getting people in. I'll see you tonight."

"Great," JC says. Unexpectedly, Justin reaches out to shake JC's hand, and suddenly JC is stumbling over his tongue, completely unable to remember the rest of what he was going to say. "Uh.... it should be good. Thanks for the tea."

"No problem," Justin says.

JC lets go of Justin's hand and takes a sip of the tea. It tastes great. "I'd better be going," he says. He looks over his shoulder at the door, and Justin gives him a friendly wave as he steps out of the store.

He still has no gloves, so he keeps trading the hot mug between his hands to keep them warm as he works his way down the rest of the street.

***

They open at five, and the party starts an hour later. All four of them were worried that no one would show up - but by eight the place is packed, not only with regulars but with old faces that no one ever sees any more. There are even a few people that only Chris recognizes.

It's definitely an unusual night. Joey insisted on stringing up as much mistletoe as any of them could find, and of course that means his wife shows up. Of course, the place is so busy that most of them have to spend almost all night behind the bar, but JC finds himself keeping an eye out for Justin. Nine o'clock comes, then ten, and JC doesn't see him. There's that disappointed, tight feeling in his chest, that won't seem to go away no matter how much yoga breathing he does.

The guy's just eye candy, he reminds himself. There's no reason to assume he's gay just because he works in a coffee shop. Eye candy. Except that eye candy doesn't give you this weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. And JC keeps thinking about the way Justin's hand felt in his and how nice he was about the bar.

As time goes on, the party shifts and changes, as parties do. It's only December 11th, but there's a Christmassy feel to it all the same. People keep stopping by the bar to shake JC's hand and wish him good luck for the future, and some of them, he doesn't even know.

They told Lou about the party, but of course he doesn't show.

By midnight, all four of them are feeling haggard and exhausted - and more than a little drunk - but the party's still swinging. JC's sweating, and he's leaning on the bar, wiping it down half-heartedly with a cloth. The door swings open, and JC looks up, and Justin walks in, and JC glances at the surface of the bar and smiles.

When he looks up again, Chris is shaking Justin's hand, which only half-surprises JC. _Old customer_, he thinks, _remember?_ Justin says something, and Chris laughs, and Justin makes for the bar.

He comes right to where JC is standing. "Hi," he says.

"Hey," JC says, "what can I get you?"

"Uh, a beer," Justin says, and reaches into his pants pocket. JC waves his hand, a mirror of Justin's wave earlier in the day.

"First drink's free," JC says. It's totally not supposed to be, but hell, Justin's hot, and why the heck shouldn't they piss Lou off as much as they can? He already screwed all four of them out of a job. He gets Justin a Corona out of the fridge unit, opens it, and is it his imagination, or does Justin kind of make sure their fingers touch as JC hands the bottle over?

JC's drunk. Drunk and this is total wishful thinking and that has to be it. He's expecting Justin to turn away, but Justin leans his own elbows on the bar and takes a swig of the beer. He looks around and up at the ceiling as if he's trying to think of something to say.

JC goes back to cleaning the bar, 'cause he can't think of much else to do. It's already pretty clean, but he doesn't want to turn away and do something else in case Justin actually wants to talk to him.

"So what happened?" Justin says.

JC sighs.

Between himself, Lance, Chris, and Joey, they've been over this about a million times in the last thirty-six hours. And he's now told the story to ten or fifteen customers over the course of the night, and he's sick of it, but what can you do? And maybe it's worth it, telling the same old painful story in order to have a few minutes' attention from the straight guy you've been drooling over for half a year.

So he tells it. All the stuff about Lou. The debts. The deception. JC figures that when he first came here, back in May, Lou must already have been lying to the staff and suppliers for years. Maybe even since before Chris started work here. Somehow from there, JC gets into looking for a new job, and school, and... And Justin actually listens.

Which is weird, because JC's not used to that any more, not with his family so far away.

He's drunk, and it must show. He's rambling, that's for sure. But Justin is nodding his head, taking occasional sips of his beer, and making encouraging noises.

"That sucks," Justin says when JC finally runs dry, and in JC's drunk state, it sounds like the wisdom of Solomon. He nods enthusiastically. Justin develops a frown on his face, and looks down into his beer, and JC backpedals furiously.

"Hey, it doesn't suck that much," he says. "I'll get by, I'll be fine, I mean..."

"You think this Pearlman guy would still be open to a better offer?" Justin says. "I mean, if he's selling to developers, I bet they're not paying too much. And if he sold to the right person, the bar might be able to stay open."

JC shakes his head - then stops, because that's making it swim. "We thought of that, but who the hell would buy it? Plus, I'm pretty sure it's all signed and sealed." He sighs. "It's over, man. We're out."

JC leans forward on the bar and hangs his head. It's a fucking mess, is what it is. Maybe he can get some kind of hellish Christmas job in a department store. Or maybe he should quit school and move to a bigger city and get an office job or something. Except for the part where he'd kinda rather kill himself than work an office job. Justin leans forward too, right into JC's space, and suddenly their noses are almost touching.

"Well, I was thinking I could buy it," Justin says.

"Huh?" JC's floored. Justin's closeness and the softness of his voice, somehow audible over the din in the bar, plus the weirdness of what he actually said. "Um - Justin - you work in a coffee shop."

Justin laughs softly, and when he does, JC can smell the beer on his breath. "Dude," he says, "I _own_ the place."

***

For the rest of the night, JC's heart feels buoyant, like it's floating on a pool of light in the middle of his chest. Justin finishes his first beer, pays for his second, and then joins the party, leaving JC's brain to chew on that weird moment of intimacy as he serves drinks. Every now and then he looks up and sees Justin talking to someone, and he doesn't look like the other guests - plastered by now and there to have a good time. He looks smooth and professional, like a politician working a room.

_But, you know,_ JC amends, _not slimy and gross._

The bar closes at two. By then, Lance is drunk enough that they toss him in a cab and send him home. That's not unusual, especially for how upset Lance is that the bar's closing down, and JC's not mad at him, he just feels bad for the guy. So it's left for the three of them to do the final cleaning up. The final shutting down of the bar.

God, but JC's glad he's been drinking. He's pretty sure he couldn't do this sober.

He's surprised when Justin doesn't leave, but pitches in; and even more surprised when Chris doesn't object. Chris is really damn protective of his bar after closing.

Instead, he simply glances over his shoulder and says, "You know I'm pretty sure this isn't going to work."

"Yeah, yeah, you never think anything's gonna work," Justin replies. He doesn't even look at Chris to answer. JC knew that Justin was an old customer, and that Chris has worked here forever, but he didn't know they were old friends. Weird.

"I'm realistic," Chris counters.

"Nah, you're a pessimist."

"Same thing."

Justin laughs, a short, hard laugh, and says, "That's crap and you know it."

JC's busy taking clean glasses out of the dishwasher, but he can just imagine the way Chris will roll his eyes at that. The banter fades into companionable silence, and JC works through his chores slowly, still in an alcoholic haze. He doesn't usually drink on the job, but hell. Tonight was special. Not to mention his last night of free booze for, possibly a good long while.

He's startled out of his wool-gathering by Justin's voice. Justin speaks softly, but it still sounds loud in the silence of a closed bar. "Hey," Justin says.

JC glances up. It takes him a moment or two to get his shit together enough to respond. "Hey."

"Want some help with that?"

JC's still putting away clean glasses, mechanically, not really sure why he's even bothering, 'cause they'll never be used again. He says, "Sure," and Justin comes behind the bar to help out. Together, they work through the closing chores.

"Not so different from the coffee place really," Justin muses. "More booze, I guess."

"For sure," JC says, smiling to himself. "And later hours."

"That, too," Justin says. He's surprisingly competent, stacking glasses and storing them. "Long time since I worked in a bar."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah.... four or five years, I guess." He sets the latest stack of glasses down on the bar and suddenly turns to look at JC, his eyes blue and sharp. "How drunk are you?" he asks.

JC blinks because, wow, personal question. "Uh... pretty drunk," he admits.

"Like, not-responsible-for-your-actions drunk?"

"Not quite." There's a pause, a heavy and awkward one. "Um... why?"

Justin casts his eyes up, then looks back at JC, intensely. There's a little time delay because JC has to figure out that he ought to look up, and by the time he does, Justin has leaned forward and kissed him. Justin's lips land awkwardly on the side of JC's mouth, and it's not until a second later that JC registers what Justin was looking at.

Chris gives a low wolf-whistle, and Joey laughs, rough and dirty.

Joey and his damn mistletoe.

***

JC wakes up in his own bed, but he's cold, his head hurts, and he aches all over. There's some other part of him, though, somewhere way down deep in his body, that totally doesn't care. He feels good. He has a hangover and he's bone-tired and he feels good and he doesn't know why.

It gives him a jolt when he hears it: footsteps pacing outside his bedroom door and a soft voice talking. He can't hear what the voice is saying, but it gets him sitting up and hunting around for something to put on. He's naked, which isn't really his usual sleeping attire for December.

He finds a T-shirt and a pair of clean undershorts and ventures out into the living room, and for a moment he can't figure out why his favourite barista is pacing around his living room, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and talking into a cell phone.

Then some of last night comes back to him, and Justin catches his eye and smiles.

JC navigates around Justin and into the kitchen. He needs coffee, badly, and Justin's voice on the phone is weirdly soothing for his headache. There's coffee in the pot, which makes another reason that Justin is a blessing, and he finds himself smiling as he pours himself a cup. He's taking his second or third sip when Justin gets off the phone.

"So I have this meeting on Monday," Justin says. "Lou Pearlman and a bunch of lawyers. Should be fun."

"Sounds it," JC says over the top of his coffee cup. He looks Justin up and down and is immediately kind of bummed that most of last night is still a blur. The aches in his body say it was probably fun. But... wow. Awkward.

Justin leans against the door frame and says, "So."

"So," JC says. "Um. I'm thinking this was kind of elaborate to get laid." Justin's eyebrows go up. "Seriously, you didn't even need to get me drunk."

Justin bursts out laughing. "You think I'm buying a bar for sex? Geez, my mom would kill me." He shakes his head, and the laughter fades to a smile. "I'm buying the bar 'cause I like the bar. And I'm here with you 'cause I like you. Separate deals, right?"

JC sets down his coffee cup.

"This is kind of weird," he confesses. "I mean... I like you, and all... and... um... well, I was kind of drunk, and I - "

Justin grins wickedly. "Maybe I should jog your memory."

It's not much. And it's a lot of suddenness. Justin suddenly swooping in, saving the bar, moving in on JC, like some kind of goddamn superhero. It's ridiculous. And that's part of the reason JC starts laughing. His head's throbbing and his mouth tastes like fur and he wants about ten more hours' sleep, and yet this all feels stupidly right.

Justin's grin doesn't fade as he steps toward JC. JC finds his hand sliding up Justin's bare chest as Justin leans down to kiss him, and the kiss goes long and slow and wet.

"I better brush my teeth," JC says.

Justin sighs theatrically. "Fine. Meet me in bed. I'll bring the mistletoe."

JC steps reluctantly out of Justin's embrace, taking as long as he can manage to let go of Justin's hand, and the weird thought pops into his head that Justin might actually look good in a cape and tights. With a logo of some mistletoe painted on his chest.

Maybe he'll tell Justin that.

Maybe _after_ they have sex.

As JC makes for the bathroom, he sees the stack of books and papers he needs for his assignment, and for the first time in two days he doesn't feel a pang of guilt.

Maybe he'll be able to finish that thing after all.


End file.
